


A Very Clumsy Romance

by whiskygalore



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Attempt at Humor, Bottom Jensen, M/M, Shy Jensen Ackles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 15:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskygalore/pseuds/whiskygalore
Summary: Jeff is a grumpy coffee shop owner. And the object of Jensen's crush. Jensen is accident prone. And shy. Luckily, or maybe not, his best friends, Jared and Chris, have his back. They're a whole lot better than he is at flirting and talking and not falling over their own feet. Oh, and also... they're occasionally imaginary.





	A Very Clumsy Romance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Supernatural Reversebang 2017 and inspired by the amazing Beelikej's artwork!! Many thanks to Bee for her support and cheerleading throughout the challenge process and for knocking it out of the goddamn park with her brilliant artwork!! Please go show her lots of love if you can (Link at end of fic).
> 
> Thanks also to gwendolynd on LJ for her fantastically quick beta. I didn't exactly give her a generous time frame and she still did a great job. Any mistakes remaining are all my own work!

 

 

 

It was a crappy job, but then Jensen hadn’t expected any different. As the office new boy he’d anticipated having to spend most of his days doing everyone’s dirty work. He knew he’d end up in a love/hate—mainly hate—relationship with a photocopier and he knew he’d spend most of his time making or fetching coffee. But really, who knew that companies even still had mailrooms. Or that people still sent real, honest to God, paper and envelope mail.

But, when you’re nineteen years old, with only a high school diploma and not even a year of college to your name, career options were limited. And it could have been worse. If it wasn’t for a friend of his brother, Josh’s, Jensen would still be working minimum wage retail rather than for a comic book publisher. Admittedly Devil’s Trap Publishing were hardly Marvel or DC but Jensen wasn’t in a position to complain.

Josh was still convinced that mom and dad would come around. That they’d unfreeze Jensen’s college fund and start talking to him again. Jensen wasn’t so sure. He figured if he’d eased them into the whole gay thing a little more gently it wouldn’t have ended quite so badly. But walking into your son’s dorm room to find him sucking his RA’s dick, would have shocked anyone, never mind Jensen’s ultra-conservative, ultra-religious parents.

Still, two months later, Jensen had a job, a roof over his head, and...actually, that was about it. But it could be worse, right? Sure, he wished he was still at college. And of course, he hadn’t specifically wanted to move to a whole new city where he didn’t know anyone. And yes, he missed his family. He loved them, even if the last time he set eyes on his dad he was tossing Jensen’s lacrosse trophies in the trash. And boy, he really missed his friends. Especially Jared and Chris. The fuckers. At college, thousands of goddamn miles away. 

Still, as he told his refection in the mirror every morning; things could be worse.

Things. Could. Be. Worse.

Jensen repeated the mantra under his breath as he stomped towards Starbucks, crumpling the list of drinks in his hand. Why everyone couldn’t just drink the coffee out of the damn machine today Jensen didn’t know. Probably just to mess with him. Rain trickled down the collar of his jacket and he was uncomfortably aware of a growing damp spot in the toe of his sock suggesting his boots weren’t quite as waterproof as they’d once been. He wished spring would get its ass in gear. He was completely over the whole cold wet winter thing.

Maybe if he hadn’t been wallowing quite so thoroughly in self-pity he would have noticed the sign taped to the Starbuck’s door before he spent a full minute yanking ineffectually at the handle.

 

 ** _Sorry, closed due to unforeseen circumstances_**.

 

Jensen clung to the door handle staring at the hand-written sign for a further minute, willing himself not to cry.

Starbucks couldn’t be closed. That wasn’t possible. It just...it didn’t happen. It was Starbucks.

“Food poisoning.”

Jensen jumped at the voice and spun around to see a guy watching him from the doorway of the shoe store next door. “I’m sorry?”

“Food poisoning. Nasty batch of cupcakes apparently.”

“But...but...coffee,” Jensen stuttered.

“There’s another Starbucks over on Oak.”

Jensen’s face fell even further. That was a thirty minute walk away. The guys back at the office would kill him if they had to wait that long for their coffee order. 

Next door dude must have noticed his desolate expression. “Or there’s always Jeff’s place.”

“Jeff’s place?”

“Sure, it’s just around that corner and down Colt Street. You can’t miss it. Well, if you know it’s there.”

“Right.” Jensen finally pried his fingers free from the Starbucks door handle, to the visible relief of shoe store guy. He obviously thought Jensen was having some kind of caffeine withdrawal breakdown. “Right, thanks. I’m just gonna go…do that.”

“Do yourself a favor,” the guy called after Jensen. “Don’t ask for any of that frou frou shit. Jeff isn’t Starbucks biggest fan.”

Jensen looked down at the crumpled list in his hand and gulped.

The coffee shop was tucked away, as described, down a side street. Left to his own devices, Jensen would never have found it. The store front was about half the size of Starbucks, discreet with no flashy signage; it would be easy enough to walk past without noticing.

A brass bell above his head tinged when Jensen pushed the door open, thankful if nothing else to finally get out of the rain. The freshly ground coffee aroma that instantly engulfed him was almost as comforting as the dry warmth.

The coffee shop was different from any Jensen had seen before. In a good way. In a _great_ way. A dark wood counter ran across the length of one wall, with glass cabinets protecting baked goods and sandwiches. This late in the afternoon, Jensen wasn’t surprised that the cabinets were nearly empty, but the few pastries and cakes left looked delicious, not like the sad dried-up muffins Starbucks usually had left by midafternoon.

Squeezed into the space were a dozen walnut colored tables just about big enough to accommodate the four chairs sitting around each of them, and in the corners of the room, were comfortable leather chairs; the perfect place to curl up with a large coffee and a good book. And a good book would be easy to find. The walls were taken up with a hodgepodge of shelves, filled with a small library worth of books and a variety of knickknacks; old action figures, and brightly colored Lego’s. Not stiff spined hardbacks just set there to look good either, but dog eared paperbacks, itching to be read. From where he was standing Jensen couldn’t make out any of the titles, but he just knew there was a treasure trove of murder mysteries, old fashion westerns, and trashy romance novels waiting to be discovered.

Interspersed between the shelves, and even on the wall behind the counter were posters. And not designer posters of coffee beans and artistically angled photos of bagels, but images of motorcyles; Harley-Davidson’s that Jensen recognized and sleek shiny machines that he didn’t. The place was an eclectic mix but somehow it worked. For Jensen anyway. He felt more at home standing there than he’d felt anywhere else in town so far.

“Can I help you with something, or are you just enjoying the view?”

Jensen’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment even though the barista behind the counter was grinning at him in a way designed to flirt not mock.

“Sorry,” Jensen apologized quickly, wiping his wet boots on the door mat before making his way across to the counter. “I was just...I’ve never... “

“Oh no, I’m sorry, hon.” The barista waved away his apology. “That was rude. This is your first time here, huh? Another Starbucks refugee? Well, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

“Sorry,” Jensen apologized again, because that was pretty much his standard reaction to any conversation. “I’m kind of new. Here. To town. I’m kind of new in town.”

Jensen could feel the tips of his ears burning. He’d relied on Chris and Jared to get him through anything requiring social skills for years, and now suddenly he was left floundering on his own, red-faced and tongue-tied, without anyone to save him from his own anxious fumbling.

“Well, new kid on the block, what can I get you today?” The girl grinned at him and Jensen willed himself to relax. She was nice. Friendly. She wasn’t going to eat him.

“I have a list.” Jensen held up the wrinkled ball of paper awkwardly, as though she didn’t understand what a list was. He took a deep breath, and tried to flatten out the paper. “I need, erm…two grande non-fat lattes; a grande skinny peppermint mocha; a tall white chocolate mocha; a caramel macchiato, venti, skim, extra shot, extra hot, extra whip; a grande chai tea tatte, 3 pumps, skim milk, no foam, extra hot; a decaf soy latte with an extra shot. Oh and, a small coffee, dark roast, please.”

“Oh boy,” the barista sighed, “that’s a doozy. Why don’t you hand that list over, sweetie, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

The bell tinged behind Jensen, four women barging through the door in a burst of giggles, shaking off their umbrellas and staking claim to the nearest free table. One of them veered off from the pack and joined Jensen at the counter. “Hey Danni, just our usuals please?”

The barista, Danni apparently, looked down at the list in her hand, visibly winced, and then shouted over her shoulder. “Hey boss, can I get some help out here?”

Someone called back, about three octaves lower. “Jesus, Danneel, yell a little louder in front of the customers why don’t you!”

With a wink at Jensen, the barista yelled back, if anything louder than last time. “Sorry boss, I forgot what a classy establishment you were running there for a second. Should I mail you an invitation instead?”

“God, woman!” A man appeared from the doorway behind Danneel, drying his hands on a towel. “I’m gonna sack you for your damn cheek one of these days.”

“Sure, you are, boss,” Danneel smirked. “But then who’d flirt with the baker and snag you all the best deals?” Before the guy could respond, she shoved the list in his hand. “Can you help me with this lot for new guy over here?”

“New guy?” The man asked, his face scrunching into a scowl as he read Jensen’s list, mumbling under his breath but not quite quietly enough that Jensen couldn’t hear. “Jesus Christ, doesn’t anyone drink proper coffee any more. I mean who actually needs a decaf soy latte or pepper-fucking-mint mocha. That’s not goddamn coffee. And Jesus, grande venti? Do I look like a goddamn Starbucks! Small, medium and large, that’s what we have. Christ!” He sighed heavily before glaring in Jensen’s direction.

Jensen stared back, dumbstruck. He could feel his pale skin turning an ugly shade of red all the way from the burning tips of his ears down past his shirt collar. And it wasn’t just because he was mortally embarrassed by his convoluted drinks order. There was a chance, a good chance, he was in love.

Danni’s boss was gorgeous. Even cursing up a storm at Jensen, he was by far the most perfect man Jensen had ever set eyes on. Older than Jensen, but not too old, dark hair and scruff with the odd hint of silver catching the light. Broad shoulders hidden beneath his white shirt, and a tease of a tattoo slipping out from underneath his folded-up cuffs. His eyes were the color of dark roast coffee, and his lips...Jensen wanted to taste them more than anything in the world. And Jesus Christ, his voice. Jensen had been half hard since that first distant rumble. 

Strained silence stretched on as the guy stared back at Jensen. His scowl gradually morphing into a not quite smile, blatant appraisal in the twist of his lips that made Jensen’s heart flop around like a dying fish in his chest, and his tongue glue itself to the roof of his mouth. 

“Jeff,” Danni scolded, slapping her boss’s arm. “You’re going to scare off the poor guy.” She turned towards Jensen, adding, “Don’t mind him, Jeff loves to bitch about people ordering things that sound as though they belong on a Starbucks menu. Consider him our in-house entertainment. Honestly, I swear customers come in here and ask for ridiculous shit just so he’ll growl at them.”

Jensen could believe it; _that voice_. Jensen could imagine himself coming from nothing more than that low pitched growl in his ear. 

“Look hon,” Danneel said when it became apparent that Jensen had turned mute. “Why don’t you sit down for five minutes until we get your order together.”

Jensen dragged his eyes away from Jeff, and nodded at her, wishing he could think of something clever or witty to say. Or just something to say, period. Instead, he sat his ass down on one of two stools placed down at the end of the counter and tried not to think about how awful he looked. And tried not to stare at Jeff as he worked.

Despite his complaints about Jensen’s ridiculous order, the guy had no problems filling it. Moving with a smooth confidence that Jensen only wished he possessed. His hands danced over paper cups, jugs, and hissing machines, his fingers thick and deft and wholly entrancing. When he bent over to grab something from a low shelf, Jensen shifted on his stool and licked his lips at the curve of his very fine ass, and surprisingly narrow hips. And when he smiled, wide enough for dimples to appear, Jensen almost fell off his stool altogether.

Jensen suddenly desperately wished that Jared was here with him right now. Or even Chris. Jared could talk to anyone. Jensen had witnessed him strike up a conversation with po-faced southern grandmothers as easily as the college girls that flocked to him...and their boyfriends. Right now, Jared would probably already have Jeff throwing his head back and laughing at one of his stupid knock knock joke. And Chris, despite being straight as a pin—a slightly bent pin when Steve was around—possessed legendary gaydar. And also a dry wit that was second to none. As far as wingman went, he wasn’t the worst. 

“Okay, new guy, here you go.” Danneel was ringing up the total and looking at Jensen expectantly. He jumped down from the stool and fumbled the money from his wallet, paying with a barely audible thank you. 

“Now, don’t let Jeff here scare you off. It’d be nice to see your pretty face around here again. Who knows maybe next time I’ll even be able to coax a name out of you.” Danneel grinned at him while sliding the cups Jeff had ready and waiting into cup holders. There was room for four in each so, with a little luck, Jensen could just about carry them back to the office without any major disasters. 

“You need space left in the dark roast for cream?” Jeff asked from beside her. The earlier grouch in his voice absent. 

“Erm...no…thanks...I don’t...I mean...I take it back… _black_...I take it black, thanks.” Jensen had no game. It was official. He couldn’t even say no thanks without sounding like a stuttering tool. If he was ever going to get laid again, he’d need Jared and Chris to move to Loserville with him. 

“Awesome,” Jeff said in that throaty rasp that made Jensen want to drop to his knees. 

“Okay, that’s the last.” Jeff popped a lid on the paper cup and handed it to Danneel. 

“Oh," Jensen said. “Sorry, that’s a...I only asked for a...a small, sorry... ” And he’d only paid for a small too according to the receipt. He didn’t want Jeff thinking he was ripping him off. 

“No worries,” Jeff smiled. “I’d say the poor guy that has to traipse through the rain for a coffee run deserves a treat.”

Jensen’s hand jumped up to his hair. He’d almost forgotten his wet dog appearance. By the time he made it back to the office he’d look like a drowned rat for sure. Not that he cared. There wasn’t anyone in the office he’d fallen in love with. Or was likely to. The flush in his cheeks coming back with a vengeance, Jensen ducked his head and picked up the stacked cup holders. 

“I’d offer you the loan of an umbrella,” the object of his epically doomed crush, said. “But I think you’ve got your hands full.”

And whereas Jared would have made either an incredibly witty or suggestive quip, Jensen squeaked something that may have been a thank you and almost...very nearly...managed to smile vaguely in Jeff’s direction. 

“Have a good day, new guy, come back and see us soon,” Danneel called after him as Jensen walked away. And if he hadn’t tried to turn around and say thanks or goodbye or my name is Jensen and I’m very _very_ gay, and also available, then Jensen probably would have been fine.

But of course Jensen’s life could never be that easy. And that’s why, as he tried to simultaneously balance the cup holders, reach out to open the door, and glance behind him, he somehow ended up flat on his back wearing his coffee run.

 

 

 

“It’s not funny, Jared.” Jensen sighed, his pencil almost scratching through the notepad page he was doodling on. Jared probably didn’t hear him because he was laughing so hard on the other end of the phone. 

“No but, Jensen,” Jared wheezed, making a poor attempt to hold it together. “It is.”

“Jared!”

“You fell flat on your ass, how is that not hilarious? Only you, Jensen I swear to god.”

“The floor was wet,” Jensen grumbled. “I had to walk around for the rest of the afternoon in damp pants smelling like stale coffee.”

“You should sue their asses,” Chris chimed in from the other end of the line. Naturally he was listening in. God forbid he miss hearing all about Jensen’s humiliation. 

“Dude, no.” Jensen’s fingers twitched violently around his pencil. “I’m not gonna fucking sue him. _Them_. I’m not gonna sue _them_. And they did remake the whole order. For free.”

“Him?” Jared picked up on Jensen’s little slip quick smart. For all his puppy-dog enthusiasm and easy charm, he was sharp as a tack. “Him, who?”

Jensen considered lying, but even with hours and hours of miles between them, they’d know. Chris was like a human bullshit detector. The pencil in his fingers skimmed across the notepad as Jensen spilled his sad little tale. 

“So wait,” Jared said, when Jensen paused. “You what, met the man of your twink dreams and didn’t even talk to him?”

“I couldn’t." Jensen winced at the whine in his own voice. 

“Of course you could,” Jared argued. “No, man, “Chris butted in. “ _You_ could, Jared. Hell, you’d have dragged the guy out back and blown him before he knew what hit him. Jensen though, Jensen couldn’t get laid in a cathouse.”

Jensen added a few angry lines to his doodle. “That’s because l’m gay, asshole. And I’m not a slut like Jared.”

Chris snorted. “It’s because you’re chicken, boy. If that skeevy shithead Weatherly hadn’t put the moves on you, you’d have been the only guy in college not to get laid.”

“He wasn’t skeevy,” Jensen muttered. 

“Dude,” Jared scoffed. “Forgetting the fact that he was your RA, the asswipe didn’t even bother to lock your dorm room door.“

“It wasn’t his fault,” Jensen said, although it kind of was, but he didn’t want to go over the whole debacle yet again. “He’s not that bad.” 

Jared and Chris made similar disbelieving grunts. “Fucker ruined your life, Jenny,” Chris growled. “He’s an asshole. Deserved everything he got.”

Jared sniggered, and Jensen heard what sounded like two dorks high fiving each other. He suspected they weren’t just talking about the trouble Michael got into with the college for sleeping with one of his freshmen. “I don’t want to know what you two did, do I?”

“So, when are you making a move on coffee guy?” Chris swerved the subject sharply enough to answer that question. 

“I’m not making any kind of move on ‘coffee guy’,” Jensen said, his stomach doing a sad little flip. “I can’t go back there again. Not after making an ass of myself.”

Jared sighed. “Don’t be stupid, Jen. Something like that, it’s the stuff romcoms are made of. It’s classic meet cute.” 

Yeah, sure, that kind of clumsiness was cute in the movies, Jensen thought sourly, but real life was not the same thing at all. In real life, scorching hot coffee shop owners probably hated customers who dropped eight coffees all over their floors. It was the kind of thing they went home and bitched about. To their equally hot wives.

Jensen hunched lower over his notepad and grouched, “The fuck d’you know about romcoms?” 

Jared wasn’t deterred. “Plenty, you made me watch The Accidental Husband so many times I can quote the whole fucking awful script.”

“Dude, don’t pretend you don’t love that film,” Jensen grumbled. “A sexy fireman, Colin Firth and Uma Thurman...it’s your fucking nirvana.”

“Don’t change the subject.” Jared didn’t deny it. “You like this guy. You like coffee. What have you got to lose by going back there?”

“What’s left of my dignity?” 

Chris snorted. “Shit, boy, sounds like that disappeared when you took a swim in your coffee.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Thanks Chris. We all know I’m a massive fuck-up, can we change the subject already, please?”

“Jensen,” Jared’s tone softened. “We’re just worried about you, you know that right? You sound fucking miserable every time we talk. If something or someone could help cheer you up—“

“Please, Jared don't.” Tears welled behind Jensen’s eyes, which was pathetic. He was not going to cry just because he was a little lonely, and homesick, and maybe kind of heartbroken. So what if he’d had a fucking awful day. It was just another in a long line of fucking awful days. He was fine. He was fine goddamnit. “Just, drop it, okay? Please?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Jensen could almost feel the sad looks that Jared and Chris were exchanging. 

“So,” Chris was the one who cleared his throat and spoke. “How’s things going with Misha and Vikki?”

Jensen groaned, his head thunking down onto the desk. 

Misha and Vicki were his roommates. Or his landlords, whatever. They rented the apartment and Jensen rented their spare room. Misha was a friend of a friend of his brother’s friend who’d found Jensen the job. Or something like that. There were a lot of friends involved anyway and none of them were Jensen’s. 

Don’t get him wrong, Jensen was grateful to them for letting him take up residence in their box room. It was cosy, cheap, and a twenty minute walk away from his work, so in theory it was perfect. And Misha and Vicki were awesome. Both of them post-grad, both of them friendly, and kind, and both more than a little crazy. 

“Jenny?” Chris prodded. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy. Everything is just frickin peachy,” Jensen grumbled. “And don’t call me Jenny, Christina.”

“Woah,” Jared laughed. “Someone’s cranky.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen sighed. “Whatever.”

“You know what you need?” Jared asked. Jensen could hear the smugness of an approaching punchline. He still asked, because he was a sucker, and also he didn’t want Jared pouting at him through the phone. “What do I need?”

“A nice cup of coffee. I don’t suppose you happen to know a friendly barista?”

Jensen shook his head and ended the call, cutting off Jared and Chris’s cackles. His friends weren’t as funny as they thought they were. 

There was no doubt they'd pee their pants laughing if Jensen told them why Misha and Vicki were freaking him the fuck out. Jesus, Jared would probably book the first flight out there. Lord knows, Jensen had never known him to turn down sex with anyone hot. And sex with two hot people at the same time; Jared’s idea of heaven. 

It wasn’t that Misha and Vicki were putting the moves on Jensen in a creepy _sleep with us or you’ll be living in a cardboard box_ kind of way. Jesus, no. But Vicki was writing a book about threesomes. How to have them. How to make them work. And she was a firm believer in research. And Misha; he was a very supportive husband. 

They hadn’t taken offense when Jensen had turned down the offer of a threesome, although Misha had looked deflated when he turned to go put away the lube and condoms. The offer, Vicki had said unabashed, was always there. Which for some reason Jensen didn’t find particularly reassuring. And having to wear headphones to muffle the disturbing sounds coming from Misha and Vicki’s bedroom when they had someone over for research purposes probably wasn’t doing much for Jensen’s hearing either.

Jensen looked down at the new doodle on his notepad and snorted. Doodle Jared and Chris scowled back up at him, neither appreciating the wings sprouting from Jared’s back nor the Cupid’s bow in Chris’s arms. Well, served them right, unhelpful assholes. 

No matter what they thought, no way was Jensen venturing back to the scene of his humiliation. Not for the coffee that put Starbucks to shame, not for the atmosphere which, well...put Starbucks to shame, and definitely not to ogle the hot owner, who put every man Jensen had ever set eyes on to shame. No way. Nope. Not happening.

 

 

 

To give Jensen his due, he lasted almost a week before cracking, and finding himself, somehow, miraculously—or maybe not—standing outside Jeff’s coffee heaven. This time, thankfully, he had no complicated drinks order, and almost thirty minutes to grab lunch. His plan; order coffee, the cheapest sandwich he could find, and stare—discreetly—at Jeff until he had to run back to the office. 

It wasn’t the most ambitious plan but Jensen knew his limits.

As before, the bell tinged overhead when Jensen finally screwed up his courage and pushed open the door. This time though, the noise went nearly unnoticed amid the hubbub. Compared to his last visit, the place was packed. All the tables were occupied and there was a long line at the counter which Jensen joined. Danneel was working, along with another girl, a petite brunette with a killer smile, but there was no sign of Jeff. Jensen told himself he wasn’t disappointed. 

‘Liar,’ a voice in his head said, that sounded just like Jared. Jensen told the voice to fuck off, and tried to figure out what he could afford to eat.

‘You could always eat the PB&J sandwich you have back at the office,’ another voice pointed out. And that sounded very much like Chris. Jensen ignored that voice too. He’d eaten PB&J all week. He deserved something tasty. 

‘Too bad tall, dark and growly isn’t here then isn’t it,’ Jared’s voice said in his head, with a leer. 

That wasn’t what he meant Jensen told Jared, _himself_ , Jensen told himself. 

Before Jensen could start to worry about the fact he was arguing with the voices in his head, his internal dialogue was interrupted by Danneel’s perky hello. “Well, hey there, new boy. It’s good to see you again. I thought you’d abandoned us.” 

Jensen flushed warm at the welcome, not sure if he was happy that she remembered him or mortified. She didn’t give him the chance to dwell on it. “So, what can we get you today, sugar? You don’t have another long ass list for us do you? I think Gen might cry if you do.”

The other girl behind the counter poked out her tongue and hip checked Danneel on her way past. Danneel laughed and Jensen felt himself relax just a little. “No, I’ve...no. It’s just me today.”

“Awesome,” Danneel smiled, and wiggled a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “So, sweetie, see anything you like?”

Imaginary Jared grinned wolfishly. Imaginary Chris’s tongue dropped out of his mouth. I’m gay, assholes, Jensen reminded them. Out loud, he said, “Coffee, please.” He flushed beet red at the squeak in his voice, coughed his throat clear, and tried again. “Just a small black coffee please. And a...a muffin?”

"What kind of muffin, hon? Salted caramel, apple and blueberry, cherry, banana—"

“Banana,” Jensen blurted out, interrupting Danneel’s list. “I like banana. Thanks.” He did like banana, he wasn’t altogether sure why he’d felt the urgent desire to share that information though.

‘Because,’ imaginary Chris was quick to point out. ‘You’re too chickenshit to flat out tell her you’re gay and you’re hoping a phalic-shaped fruit might be enough of a hint. Oh, and also? You’re an idiot.’

Imaginary Chris had a point. 

“Okay dokey, one small black and a banana muffin coming up,” Danneel said, ringing his order up on the cash register. Jensen handed her a ten dollar bill and tried not to wince at spending so much money on something that wasn’t a necessity. At least it wasn’t as expensive as Starbucks. 

“So,” Danneel said, handing him his change. “You gonna spill the beans this time and actually tell me your name, or am I gonna have to keep calling you newbie?”

Jensen’s cheeks continued to simmer. By this point he was sure Danneel thought his normal coloring was mottled red. “Jensen,” he managed to choke out. “It’s Jensen.”

“Okay, Jensen, Genevieve will have your order ready in a few minutes.” Danneel wrote his name on a cup, smiling at him one last time before turning her charms on the foot-tapping suit behind him. 

Sure enough just a few minutes later, coffee and muffin securely in hand, Jensen was scouring the room looking for a free seat. He could have just headed back to the office to eat, but that would have felt too much like admitting the only reason for coming was to moon over the absent Jeff. And honestly, despite the rush and the hustle and bustle, the place still felt warm, and welcoming and so much more friendly than the cold mail room he spent most of his day in. 

There weren’t many empty seats; there was one at a table where three high-pitched teenage girls were laughing, one beside a couple exchanging venomous looks and spit-bitter words, a couple at a table monopolized by two students with open laptops, books, highlighters and, and an air of exhausted desperation, and one more at a table with a young woman and a toddler playing with some of the Lego blocks Jensen had noticed lying around on his last visit. Jensen opted for the last table. Thankfully the woman didn’t seem to mind, smiling at him as she wiped the little boy’s mouth with a napkin. 

Careful to keep his coffee out of the kid’s reach, Jensen watched the girls work. They were brilliant, made everything appear so easy. Lord knows Jensen couldn’t have juggled steaming jugs of milk, and pots of boiling water with such ease, add in the panini press and sharp knives and he’d be lucky to survive without a hospital trip. 

Ten minutes and most of a banana muffin later, and with no sign of Jeff appearing, Jensen’s attention was caught by a loud toddler huff, and the strained patience of a woman who was attempting to drink her coffee and entertain a young kid. “I don’t know, Joey, maybe grandad can do it for you tonight?”

“But we don’t have the right Lego’s, Mommy,” young Joey whined. “My blocks is too babyish to make a airplane.”

The woman smiled apologetically at Jensen and tried to distract the kid with his glass of milk. The kid was having none of it, his bottom lip trembling dangerously, and a wet gleam in his eyes that even Jensen knew promised a meltdown.

“I could help? If that’s okay?” Jensen offered before he had time to second guess himself. He looked at the mom hoping he hadn’t overstepped. He didn’t want her to think he was a weirdo creep, but she looked only too happy at his offer. Before he knew it, Jensen was building a Lego airplane from blocks that Joey was shoving in his hand. Jensen figured it was about time his years of Lego building experience came in useful.

‘Geek,’ imaginary Chris coughed into his hand. Imaginary Jared cackled. Jensen flipped them an imaginary bird, and refused to think about the carefully constructed Tardis he’d kept hidden in his bedroom cupboard for the past four years and which was probably now at the dump along with his lacrosse trophies. 

“Wow, look mommy!” Joey was impressed with Jensen’s skills anyway, prodding at the basic airplane Jensen had put together. “It’s a airplane.”

“An airplane, and it’s great, baby,” Joey’s mom said, mouthing Jensen a silent but heartfelt thank you as she set down her empty coffee cup. Jensen looked wryly from the airplane to his own half-finished cup, but honestly, he’d had far too much fun to mourn the fact his coffee was going cold. Even if it was the best coffee he’d had all week. 

“Can you make an helicopter too?” As soon as Joey looked up at him with his huge brown eyes Jensen knew he was doomed. It took another ten minutes, and meant that he’d have to shag ass to make it back to the office in time, but Jensen managed to knock together a reasonable assimilation of a helicopter. He was pretty damn proud of it to be honest. And Joey was over the moon. Which turned out to be the problem. Just as Jensen stood up to leave, the kid bounced a little too hard on his seat, his arms flailing in a chubby windmill as he almost fell sideways. With catlike reflexes, his mom caught him before he toppled over. His glass of milk however went flying; landing on the floor with a glass shattering smash, but only after its contents had spattered all the way down Jensen’s pants, from his crotch to his shoes.

Silence settled over the whole coffee shop and every head in the place swiveling his way. It was like one of Jensen’s anxiety dreams come to life, and just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse he looked up to find Jeff staring straight at him from behind the counter.

“Shit,” Jensen said, with feeling. 

“Shit,” Joey repeated, loudly. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Jensen clapped his hand over his eyes and prayed for the floor to swallow him whole. When it refused he did the next best thing and fled, leaving a trail of apologies, milk and broken glass behind him. And a cursing toddler.

Imaginary Jared and Chris thought the whole debacle was freaking hilarious. 

Real life Jared and Chris did too. Misha and Vicki even interrupted naked yoga night to make sure Jensen was okay after he threw his cellphone against the door. Jensen stopped trying to suffocate himself with his pillow just long enough to reassure them he was fine. And then promptly wished he hadn’t.

Never again. He was never setting foot in that coffee shop again. No matter how attractive the owner was. 

 

 

Nine days later the bell was ringing above Jensen’s head once more.

‘Dude, you got this.’ Imaginary Jared clapped him on the shoulder. ‘What’s the worst that can happen.’

On his other shoulder, tiny imaginary Chris groaned. ‘JT, why you gotta say that shit? You know you just jinxed him.’

“Shut the hell up assholes,” Jensen muttered under his breath. Imaginary Jared and Chris, much like real life Jared and Chris, were not helping calm his nerves any. 

It was Friday morning, and it was far too early to put up with Jared and Chris's bullshit. His boss had asked, demanded truth be told, Jensen start work early and Jensen wasn’t happy about being awake before the sun even bothered to rise. He’d rolled out of bed and zombie-walked to Jeff’s in the hope the place was open by seven. He badly needed decent coffee to face an extra-long day of mail room hell. And that was the only reason he was here. Not because he’d woken up painfully hard after dreaming about a certain gravel-voiced sex god coffee shop owner. Again.

Honestly, Jeff’s dark rumble had been haunting his dreams all week. 

That rumble was the first thing Jensen heard when he walked in. And hell, but it was even hotter than Jensen remembered. So was the man himself, especially in the black Henley that clung like a second skin to his broad chest. 

Jensen congratulated himself on successfully navigated his way across the room without tripping over his own tongue. Although he did stumble when Jeff turned his way and quirked his lips in a smile. Jensen swore the glint in the guy’s eyes could inspire impure thoughts in a monk. 

“Well, hey there stranger.” Jensen swallowed hard and tried not to whimper when Jeff greeted him. 

‘Damn,’ Jared hissed, his wings flapping frantically in Jensen’s in ear. ‘This stud is way out of your league.’

‘And your age range,’ Chris added, poking Jensen in the side of his neck with a tiny arrow. ‘He’s old enough to be your damn dad.’

“Pfft,” Jared dismissed that. “He’s barely thirty. And trust me, Christian, there ain’t nothing wrong in dating a man with experience. I bet that old dog knows a trick or two.”

Jensen wanted to tell them both to shut the hell up but talking to himself wouldn't convince Jeff he wasn’t a complete idiot.  

“So,” Jeff asked, “what can I get you today, kid?”

Jensen licked his lips. “Um...”

‘His number?’ Jared prompted. 

‘Dude,’ Chris rolled his eyes. ‘Too cheesy.’

“Um...” Jensen said again.

“Caffeine?” Jeff suggested, a dimple appearing at the edge of his smile. “Looks like you could use it.”

Jensen nodded. Chris slapped the tip of his ear. ‘Use your words, son.’

“Um...sure,” Jensen finally managed. “Coffee...yes...please.”

“Dark and strong?” Jeff asked with a sparkle in his eye. ‘That’s what you like, right?’

‘Don’t say it, Jared,’ Chris snapped. 

‘Oh, come on, man,’ Jared whined. ‘It’s a line. I swear to god, Jensen, I’m gonna disown you if you don’t’—

“Um...yeah, I...yeah, please.” Jensen tugged at the collar of his shirt, uncomfortably aware of sweat dripping down his neck. 

‘Oh my god,’ Jared groaned dramatically. ‘You’re hopeless. Dark and strong; I like my coffee just the way I like my men. That was your chance doofus.’

Jensen brushed a speck of dirt off the shoulder of his jacket, trying to flick imaginary Jared away at the same time. Unfortunately Jared’s wings lifted him out of the way. He slapped Jensen’s ear in retaliation when he floated back down again. ‘I’m trying to help, asshole.’

“Shut the hell up then,” Jensen muttered.

Jeff looked up from the cash register. “Sorry did you say something?”

A red flush crawled up Jensen’s face. “Um...no?” 

“Not a morning person, huh?” 

‘Would you like to find out?’ Jared quipped back, tugging at Jensen’s hair. ‘Say it, Jenny, come on, he’s—"

“That’s a dollar fifty then, kid.”

Jared slumped down on Jensen’s shoulder with a disappointed sigh. 

Jensen handed over the money and tried not to stare at Jeff’s firm ass as he turned around to pour Jensen’s coffee.

‘Talk to him.’ Jared hissed in Jensen’s ear. 

Chris even agreed. ‘Throw the guy a bone here, Jennybean.’

“Uh...” Jensen tugged at his collar again. “So, you...uh...you’re on your own today? No...um....no Danneel?”

Jared and Chris groaned in tandem. ‘Why did you ask about the hot chick, dick for brains?’ Chris asked. ‘Now he’s gonna think you’re pining over _her_.”

When Jeff turned back around, coffee cup in hand, his dimple had disappeared. “No, not this morning. She’s doing the lunch shift if you want to drop by later.”

“Oh...um...no, that’s okay.” Jensen was finding it hard to look Jeff in the eye. “I mean, I can’t really afford...and anyway she’s not...”  

The bell above the door tinged behind Jensen, footsteps hustling inside. Jeff looked up from pressing the lid onto Jensen’s cup, glancing over Jensen’s shoulder to the new customers.

Jensen’s heart sank. He’d blown his chance. 

‘Don’t panic,’ Jared said quickly. ‘You can fix this.’

Jensen took his cup from Jeff’s outstretched hand, all the moisture in his mouth disappearing at the brief touch of skin. Jeff’s hands were gorgeous. His fingers thick and tanned. Strong. Long. Jensen’s dick stirred.

“She’s not...?” Jeff prompted, but Jensen’s train of thought had left the station. 

‘Not you,’ Jared hissed in his ear. 

‘That’s actually pretty good,’ Chris agreed. 

The words were right there on Jensen’s tongue, but still he fumbled. “She...she’s not...”

“Jesus Christ, come on buddy spit it out.” The guy looming behind Jensen snapped. “Some of us want a cup of damn coffee sometime today.”

Jensen jumped, his face furnace hot. Mortified, he ducked his head and stumbled backwards, the coffee shaking in his hand, apologies tumbling from his lips. “Sorry, I’m just gonna...sorry, man.”

“Hey asshole,” Jeff growled. “Drop the pissy attitude.”

“Dude,” the asshole puffed up his chest, all set to get into it with Jeff. 

“Sorry,” Jensen jumped in with another apology. Jeff shouldn’t lose business just because Jensen was an inept idiot. “It was my fault.”

‘It’s not your fault that this guy is an asshole!’ Chris was standing on his shoulder, bow slung over his back and fists raised ready to take on the world. Despite the fact he was three inches tall and imaginary. 

“It’s not your fault this guy is an asshole,” Jeff echoed, freaking Jensen out completely. 

Chris nodded approvingly. “Okay, this dude is cool.” 

The situation was saved from getting out of hand when the asshole’s girlfriend looked up from her cellphone, interceding with an eyeroll that suggested she’d seen it all before. “Stop being a dick, Dave. Sorry, he’s a complete asshole before he has his coffee.” 

Dickish Dave grunted. “I’m not an—“ 

The ice cold glare his girlfriend shot him stopped him in his lying tracks. His denial swiftly turning into an apology. Grudged perhaps, but an apology all the same. 

Jensen made his escape while the going was good. Or attempted to.

“Hey Jensen? Jensen!” Jensen’s heart leapt into his throat at the sound of his name wrapped in Jeff’s deep drawl. He froze in his tracks, fingers curled around the door handle, took a deep breath and cricked his neck to look back at Jeff. The lopsided smile on Jeff’s face was almost too much for Jensen’s poor abused heart to take.

“Have a good day, kid.”

Jensen nodded, eyes wide, and then somehow made it out of the door without falling on his face. The grin he broke into as he walked away was blinding. 

‘What the hell are you grinning about, son?’ Chris asked.

‘Yeah,’ Jared added. ‘You barely even talked to your big gay crush. I mean sure you didn’t drop your coffee down yourself or fall on your ass, but still.’

“He knew my name,” Jensen said. “And I didn’t tell him.”

A woman walking towards Jensen eyed him suspiciously, swerving around him with exaggerated care on the sidewalk. 

‘Awesome,’ said Jared, obviously unimpressed. ‘That’s awesome, Jensen.’

“It is.” Jensen refused to allow Jared to deflate his good mood. 

‘Plus,’ Chris noted dryly. ‘He didn’t seem to mind the toothpaste smeared across your chin or that truly horrific mess of bedhead, so I guess that’s all good too.’

“I what?” Jensen stopped and stared in the nearest cleanish store window. Imaginary Chris pointed down at the sticky mint smear under his lip and imaginary Jared hovered beside the side of his head where his hair was fluffed up in all directions.

Imaginary friends sucked. “Why didn’t you jerks tell me.” Jensen scrubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘We’re imaginary dude,’ Chris sniggered. ‘And it was freaking hilarious.’ Jared added. 

“Yeah, well wait until the next time I draw you,” Jensen hissed, suddenly noticing the weird looks he was drawing. “See how hilarious you find wearing a dress and heels.”

‘Bring it on, son. I would totally rock it.’ Chris grinned. 

Mature adult that he was, Jensen flipped Chris off in the shop window before giving up on fixing his hair. Despite his disheveled state, and the stuttering fool he’d made of himself, his mood was lighter, his heart more hopeful than it been in months. 

Jeff knew his name. Jensen grinned.

 

 

 

Monday lunchtime and Jensen was, unusually, having not so bad a day. His boss had finally remembered his name. He’d been yelling at Jensen for doodling on the mail he was supposed to be delivering at the time, but still...baby steps. 

Plus, Jensen had a little extra in his bank account thanks to his big brother, who was still doggedly trying to talk his parents round. Granted, he was failing miserably but at least Josh was trying. And the fifty dollars guilt money he’d paid into Jensen’s account meant Jensen could afford to buy himself coffee and a sandwich without feeling bad about wasting money for once. Coffee and a sandwich from Jeff’s obviously. Because Jensen was still flying high from the fact that Jeff knew his name. 

‘So are you gonna say more than three words to him this time then?’ Jared asked, as Jensen pushed open the door. Jensen ignored him in favor of searching out Jeff. Who wasn’t there. 

‘He’s probably in the back,’ Chris said. ‘I’m sure he’ll come running when he knows his favorite mute twink is here.’

‘Hey,’ Jared complained. ‘Jen’s not mute. He’s just a little shy.’

“And I’m not a twink,” Jensen mumbled.

Jared and Chris snorted. 

“Hi, Jensen.” Danneel smiled wide at him when she’d finished dealing with the guy before him. “It’s good to see you. Jeff mentioned you were in last week; I was sorry I missed my favorite clumsy customer. What can I get you today, hon?” 

Jensen didn’t even mind the clumsy or the flirting. Jeff had mentioned him. He grinned, feeling a bit braver, a little more confident than usual. “A coffee please, black and strong. And a sandwich.” 

“Ooh, a sandwich too. You’re living the high life today, huh? Okay, what takes your fancy?”

Jensen looked over her shoulder, hoping that Jeff might appear in answer to that question. 

“Jeff’s special today is a salami and provolone sub with fresh tomatoes and pesto.” Danneel continued, oblivious to his pining. “Or we have all the usuals on the board.”

“Jeff?” Jensen asked, his faux casual tone fooling no one. “Is Jeff in today?”

Danneel nodded. “Sure, he’s pretty much always here, hon. Poor guy really needs to get himself a social life if you ask me. All he does is work.”

“He does? I mean, damn, that’s a shame. So, he’s not, you know, married...wife and kids and all that?”

Danneel’s mouth formed a perfect O, then she smirked knowingly. “Oh no. No kids. No wife. No girlfriend. And no _boyfriend_ right now either. How about you Jensen, wife, kids, girlfriend, _boyfriend_?”

“Um...no,” Jensen said, his cheeks growing hot. “No...no b...boy... no...no one.”

‘Holy shit, bro,’ Jared gasped. ‘How goddamn red can your ears go?’

‘Leave Jenny alone, Jaybird. He’s on a roll here,’ Chris snapped, his eyes trained on Danneel’s face. 

“Well, isn’t that a coincidence.” Danneel leaned over the counter, her eyes sparking. “So, tell me Jensen, what exactly are you looking for in a—"

“Danneel, you realize there’s people waiting.” 

Jensen and Danneel both startled when Jeff appeared behind her, materializing from nowhere. Jensen looked around and sure enough there was a short line of people waiting impatiently to be served.

Danneel didn’t appear too bothered. “Hey Jeff, I was just asking Jensen what he was looking for in a sandwich. Whether he was a sausage kind of guy, or if meatballs—“

“Danneel.” The low vibration of Jeff’s growl made Jensen’s dick sit up and take notice despite the irritation twitching at Jeff’s mouth. 

“Okay, Okay. Jeez, you’re no fun,” Danneel huffed, shaking her head at her boss. “So, Jensen, it was Jeff’s salami sub that had your mouth watering right?”

“Danneel,” Jeff snapped, and Jensen bit his lip to stop himself giggling at the mortified expression on his face. It was reassuring to know that Jensen wasn’t the only one that Danneel managed to fluster. 

“What?” Danneel asked, smiling innocently. “I’m serving a customer here, boss. Maybe you could do the same?”

Casting her a final warning glare, Jeff grudgingly moved on to serve the woman next in line who was pointedly staring at her watch. 

‘Damn, I love this girl,’ Chris sighed. 

Danneel winked at Jensen. “So sweet cheeks, you want to check out Jeff’s salami?”

Jensen snickered his yes, because that wasn’t an offer he could refuse.

‘Hey, Jensen, you sure that’s a good idea?’ Jared asked him, his wings fluttering against Jensen’s neck. 

Jensen was too preoccupied with watching Jeff out of the corner of his eye to pay attention to what Jared was saying. Jeff was wearing a t-shirt today under his apron. Soft black cotton with a v neck just low enough for Jensen to catch a glimpse of chest hair. God, Jensen wanted nothing more than to rub his face against Jeff’s thick chest, slide his hands down inside the loose waistband of his worn black jeans. 

“That’s six dollars today, please, hon.” Jensen snapped his eyes back to Danneel guiltily, realizing he’d gone from subtly eyeing Jeff to all out panting over him.

After paying he retreated to the nearest free table he could find, picking up a discarded book and pretending to skim through the pages while ensuring he found the perfect vantage point to surreptitiously watch Jeff. 

‘That Danneel chick is hot.’ 

And from where Chris could ogle Danneel.

“Stop gawking at her, you hick,” Jensen mumbled around his first mouthful of sub. Which tasted a little weird but not horrible. 

Chris scoffed. ‘Like you can talk, stalker boy, Jeff ain’t blind you know, he can see you staring at him. Besides I can gawk all I want, I’m imaginary. Ain’t nobody here thinking I’m a creeper.”

‘Jensen, I really don’t think you want to eat that,’ Jared insisted.

Ignoring both his friends, Jensen took a drink of his coffee and another bite of his sandwich, almost swooning in his seat when Jeff winked down at a little girl clinging to her mom’s legs. 

‘You think Danneel’s single?’ Chris sighed. 

“Dude, you are imaginary,” Jensen stressed, ducking his head and flicking open the paperback when Jeff looked over and caught him staring. Scratching his nose, he risked a quick glance up when he had his next bite of sub and saw Jeff whisper something in Danneel’s ear that made her laugh. He took a sip of coffee to wash down his mouthful of bread and another to soothe the sudden itch irritating the back of his throat. 

When someone pulled out the empty seat beside him, Jensen barely noticed. He was busy gazing at Jeff over the top of his book while he mechanically took another bite of his lunch. He almost had to adjust himself in his shorts when Jeff took offence at someone asking for a grande caramel latte, extra hot, double shot, extra whip with soy milk. 

“Soy milk and extra whip? Really?” The customer blanched when Jeff slapped his hands down on the counter and Jensen whimpered.

“Good book?”

Caught off guard, Jensen glanced at the cover of the book, ‘ _Love’s Tender Fury_ ’ and shrugged. Then coughed, and scratched at his throat. “I guess,” he mumbled glancing for the first time at the young woman who’d sat next to him. When she looked set to say something else, Jensen took a too big bite of his sandwich to discourage any further conversation. The salami was pretty good, but there was definitely something a little funky with it. 

‘Fucking hell, Jensen,” Jared all but yelled in his ear. ‘Stop eating.’

‘Chill out, dude.’ Chris tried to calm his shoulder partner down. “The boy needs his energy.”

Jensen took another sip of coffee and scrubbed his hand across his lips which were doing a weird tingly thing. He turned his attention from Jeff for a second to poke at his lunch, a worrying suspicion edging into his mind. 

Temper snapping, and his wings beating a storm, Jared slapped Jensen’s head. ‘That bread has got fucking pesto on it, you moron.’

Knocking the top of his sub off, Jensen swallowed hard. Pesto—his evil nemesis—spread thick across the bread stared back at him. Jensen swallowed again, and then coughed, and coughed and coughed and then wheezed.

“Hey,” the woman beside Jensen said, scuffling her chair a little further away from him. “Are you okay?”

Jensen nodded although it was obvious to everyone nearby he was not.

‘You think you should get out of here?’ Chris asked, staring at Jensen with wide eyes. 

‘To a hospital?” Jared added, panic lifting his voice to a squeak. 

“I’m fine,” Jensen coughed, trying to convince himself his tongue wasn’t swelling in his mouth.

The woman beside him jumped up, obviously not convinced. “Help!” She wasn’t the type of person who was calm in a crisis then. Not that this was a crisis. Not at all. Jensen signaled wildly with his eyes for her to shut up and sit down. Unfortunately she obviously took his wild eyed gestures as an SOS. “Someone help,” she shrieked again. Jensen shook his head frantically. He’d not even eaten half the sandwich, he was fine.

‘Dude, your face,’ Chris sounded a mix of horrified and fascinated. Jensen slapped his hands to his cheeks, feeling the always attractive hives rising underneath his fingertips. Fucking pesto. Who was allergic to fucking pesto? Who didn’t notice they were eating fucking pesto?

‘Fucking morons, that’s who,’ Jared pointed out helpfully.

“Jesus, kid, are you okay?”

Jensen slowly lifted his eyes to find Jeff looming over him. His heart lurched. Which considering the fact his throat was quite possibly closing up probably wasn’t a good thing. 

“Danneel call 911!” Jeff’s usual growl was even more fierce than normal. Crouching down, he set his hand on Jensen’s knee and looked him straight in the eyes. “You’re having an allergic reaction to something right?”

Jensen jerked a nod, tugging at his collar. Jeff reached up, deftly loosening Jensen’s cheap tie and unfastening his top two buttons. His fingers were warm and reassuring against Jensen’s desperately bobbing throat. “Relax, kid, just relax. I don’t suppose you’ve got an Epipen?”

“N...no,” Jensen gasped. “It’s...it’s not...that bad.” And since his unscheduled coming out surprise, his mom hadn’t called to remind him every week to be careful and carry one with him, just in case. Not that he missed her fussing. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He could look after himself. And seriously, how hard was it to avoid pine nuts. 

Jeff raised an eyebrow and gently swiped his thumb across Jensen’s swollen cheek. “It looks pretty bad to me.”

Jensen didn’t have the energy, or the breath, to argue. 

“Oh my god, is he gonna die?” 

Jeff pinned the hysterical woman with a murderous glare. “No, he isn’t.” The woman’s mouth snapped shut and she backed off so quickly she almost upended a table. 

“Okay, Jensen,” in an instant Jeff’s tone flipped from hitman sinister to soothing. “I need you to relax and breathe for me, nice and easy.”

Jensen dragged in a shaky breath, his eyes locked on Jeff’s. 

“You’re gonna be just fine, sweetheart.” Jensen believed him. Looking into those dark eyes, Jensen would believe anything Jeff said to him. 

Jeff’s hand settled palm down on Jensen’s chest, his fingers spread wide. Jensen didn’t need much encouragement to lean forward into his support, the panicked hitch of his breath, the tightness in his chest easing as he let Jeff hold his weight, Jeff’s other hand coming up to rub circles between Jensen’s fear-tight shoulder blades. Around them, the noise of the coffee house fell away, all Jensen could hear was Jeff’s rumbling voice in his ear. Even when silver lights started to pop in front of Jensen’s eyes, he felt calmer than he should have done. 

He was almost disappointed when the paramedics came crashing through the door, pushing Jeff aside and taking over. Although Jensen had to admit the shot of epinephrine was welcome. 

Afterwards blurred into snapshots. Questions that Jensen barely followed, prodding and more questions and oxygen. The paramedics hustled Jensen out into the ambulance and off to hospital despite his incoherent grumbling. Jeff and Danneel’s worried faces the last thing he saw before the truck door slammed shut. 

Praying fervently that his employee health insurance covered ambulance rides and stupidity induced ER visits, Jensen grudgingly suffered the indignity of a hospital trip; the more naked than they surely needed to be examinations, and subsequent lectures about not carrying his EpiPen. 

After a few hours he’d had more than enough; talk of an overnight stay for observation the last straw. He was fine. Mostly. He could breathe and his face was only a little puffy. He hated all the fussing. He wanted to sleep in his own damn bed. And honestly, the longer he spent sitting there on his own, feeling like crap, the more depressed he grew. He missed his family and friends and people that gave a shit about him. Or used to give a shit about him anyways. 

Jensen guessed the doctor wasn’t overly happy about him up and leaving so quickly, but she was too harried to waste more than a minute trying to convince him to stay. 

It wasn’t until he finally got rid of the pointless—and assless—hospital gown and back into his own clothes that Jensen discovered his cellphone was missing. It must have fallen out of his pocket at Jeff’s, or in the ambulance, or the emergency room. Or anywhere in between. Jensen didn’t cry, but he felt like it. 

He did at least have enough money on him to afford the cab ride back to Misha and Vicki’s apartment. Although that pretty much wiped out his brother’s cash injection. 

 

 

“Honey, you look like hell.” 

Jensen dragged his feet past the kitchen where Misha was stirring a pot on the stove, dressed in a pair of bright yellow yoga pants, a flowery apron, and not much else. 

Jensen managed a grunt in response.

“You want something to eat?” Misha followed Jensen through to his room. 

“Nope,” Jensen threw himself down on his bed. “I don’t think I want to eat anything ever again.” His voice was kind of croaky, his throat raw. 

Misha stood in Jensen’s doorway, a wooden spoon in his hand and his eyebrow raised. “A little over dramatic but okay. You want to talk about the whole death warmed over thing you have going on?”

“No,” Jensen’s reply was muffled through the pillow he’d dragged over his face. He wondered if suffocating himself was overdramatic too. He didn’t even flinch when he felt Misha’s hand settling on his ankle, too depressed to care.

“Jensen, hon, I know you’re having a rocky time right now. You know Vicki and I are here if you ever need to talk, right?”

Jensen tugged the pillow away from his face, hugging it to his chest instead and peering over the top. He was surprised to hear the genuine worry in Misha’s voice. Misha and Vicki were great, but Jensen hadn’t really sat down and talked to them. Not since he first moved in. He knew there was more to them than funky smelling candles, naked yoga and adventurous sex, but he’d tried hard not to get in their way. Not to get involved. They weren’t really his friends. Definitely not his family. He wasn’t their responsibility. 

Jensen tried to assure Misha he was fine. His usual response. But the words wouldn’t squeeze past the lump in his throat. 

“You want a cup of tea? I’ve got chamomile and honey?” Misha offered. 

Jensen did not want chamomile and honey tea. Not even slightly. But he nodded all the same. Maybe the honey would help his throat. 

Jensen didn’t move off the bed, just lay there hugging the pillow to his chest feeling sorry for himself until Misha came back, a slightly lopsided handmade mug in his hand.

The tea tasted just as disgusting as Jensen feared it would. 

Vicki walked in when he’d drunk about half of the cupful, plonking herself down on Jensen’s bed beside Misha like they were having a really lame slumber party. Unlike Misha, Vicki was at least fully dressed.

“Rough day?” she asked, patting his knee. 

Jensen nodded. 

“You want to talk about it?”

Jensen shook his head. 

“I already asked him that,” Misha pointed out.

Vicki shot him a pointed look over the rim of her eyeglasses. “He probably thought you meant it in a creepy foreplay kind of way. I mean it in an ‘I want to help you’ kind of way.”

The grim line of Jensen’s mouth twitched. “He’s totally harmless, I swear,” Vicki confessed to Jensen, rolling her eyes but not managing to hide the fondness in the corner of her lips. “He just gets carried away and forgets that not everyone wants to jump straight into bed with him. So, what is it...work, love, family?”

Jensen sighed and set the mug down on the small table beside his bed, drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “All of the above.”

Vicki nodded as if she suspected as much. “You know we’re here if you need us. Or need to talk. Life’s thrown you some major curve balls lately and you need a team to support you.”

Misha snorted. “Baseball analogies, Vicks, seriously?”

“Shut up,” Vicki glared. “I’m trying to help.”

“With sporting analogies? What the kid needs is some decent weed, a good lay and—“

“And that right there is why you no longer get to hand out advice.” 

“Hey now, I give the best advice.”

“Your advice nearly got poor Tyler arrested.”

“Pfft,” Misha shook his head. “I never told him to kidnap that llama.”

Jensen gaped. Vicki smacked Misha’s bare shoulder. “No, you rolled him a joint, and told him to seize the day.”

“Exactly.” Misha finger-gunned at her. “Seize the day. _The day_. Not a llama. Not my fault.”

“So you didn’t give him the lasso and the assless chaps?”

The way Misha’s face crumpled gave away the answer to that question quite clearly. Jensen didn’t want to think about why Misha possessed assless chaps and a lasso in the first place. 

“I never did get that lasso back,” Misha said, wistfully. “Remember that camping trip we took?”

“Anyway,” Vicki coughed, noticing Jensen’s traumatized expression. “As I was saying—“

“Fuck em all.” Misha butted in. “Work, family. Fuck em all.”

“That’s helpful, Misha, really, thanks,” Vicki said dryly. “Constructive advice.”

“No really,” Misha insisted. “You can’t change what your folks think, Jensen. Either they come round or they don’t. And if they don’t, if they can’t accept you the way you are then fuck them. Your brother will always be there for you and so will your friends.”

‘He’s not wrong.’ Jensen jumped at the sound of Jared’s voice in his ear. 

“And work?” Misha continued, unaware of the miniature Jared agreeing with him. “Well, I don’t know. Do you hate it or do you hate that you had to drop out of college?”

Jensen thought about it. Really thought about it for a second. His job wasn’t the most exciting, but it wasn’t terrible. And the past few weeks, he’d actually started to talk to some of the people he delivered mail to. Possibly even make potential friends. And most importantly, he worked for a comic book publisher. Like, honestly, that was what he wanted to do all along. Okay, his dream job hadn’t been fetching coffee and dealing with the mail and the filing, but everyone had to start somewhere. 

“Because if you really want to go back to college..." Misha continued.

“No,” Jensen said, finally figuring out how he felt. “I mean, I miss college. I really fucking miss my friends.”

‘Of course you do,’ Chris chipped in. ‘We’re awesome.’ Jensen knew the asshole was still hanging around somewhere. 

Jensen’s voice grew more certain as he talked. “But I hated some of the classes and I don’t want to end up thousands and thousands of dollars in debt. I’ve been drawing comics since I was kid, I always wanted to be a comic book artist, and I know that’s not what I’m doing, but at least I’ve got my foot in the door, right?”

“Right!” Jared, Chris, Misha and Vicki all agreed.

“So that leaves your love life,” Vicki said.

Jensen closed his eyes and groaned, his tenuous new optimism crashing. 

“I’m guessing you like someone?” Vicki asked.

Seeing Jeff’s face against the back of his eyelids, Jensen nodded. 

“So what’s stopping you going for it?”

Jensen huffed. “Because I’m a walking fucking disaster.” 

‘Can’t argue with that, son.” Chris agreed readily. 

‘He’s not that bad,’ Jared snapped. ‘You’re not that bad, Jen. You’ve just been a little...unlucky.’

‘Unlucky?’ Chris scoffed. ‘Falling on his ass was unlucky. The kid covering him in milk was unlucky. Almost dying after he ate the guy’s food? That was nearly fucking suicidal.”

Jensen winced at the truth in that. Opening his eyes he admitted to Vicki, “I almost died eating his salami sub.” 

There was silence for the thirty seconds it took for that statement to sink in, and then a puzzled Misha asked, “Was that a euphemism? Is that some kind of slang the kids are using these days?”

Jensen giggled. And then chuckled. And then full out laughed. His head thrown back and tears dripping down his face. Before he knew it everyone else was laughing along with him although Misha and Vicki probably had no idea what was so fucking hilarious. Neither did Jensen really, but mother of God, his life was insane. 

Ten minutes later, he’d pulled himself together enough to give Misha and Vicki the cliff notes version of his tragic love life. 

“You don’t carry your epiPen?” Vicki slapped Jensen’s thigh, hard enough that Jensen had to hide his wince. “What were you thinking? You could have died!”

Jared and Chris snickered. 

“I’m sure he’ll remember from now on.” Misha said, placating his wife. “Won’t you Jensen?” He nodded frantically at Jensen from behind Vicki’s back. 

Wide-eyed, and surreptitiously rubbing his thigh, Jensen nodded back. “Yes, I will. I promise.”

“But at least almost dying had a bright side,” Misha pointed out. “I mean, you said, Jeff sat with you the whole time until the ambulance arrived. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t like you at least a little.”

“Or maybe he just didn’t want my dead body cluttering up his coffee shop.” Jensen said morosely.

“Well, sure that’s a possibility,” Misha conceded. “But even dead, you’d make a pretty corpse so I doubt it.”

Jared and Chris made simultaneous gagging noises. 

“Okay, now you need to shut up.” Vicki stood up, hands on her hips, pinning a steely glare first on Misha before turning it on Jensen. 

“And you need to man up. You like this guy, and he’d have to be either straight, married or an idiot not to like you. Is he any of those things?”

Jensen wasn’t one hundred percent sure Jeff was gay, but Danneel had heavily hinted that he was at least open to dating guys too. “Well, no he’s not. But...” 

“Nope,” Vicki shook her finger at Jensen, stern school teacher mode fully activated. “No, buts. You need to stop moping, and take control.”

Jensen was slightly dazed by her vehemence. “I do?” 

Vicki nodded. “You do.”

“Damn right you do, boy,” Chris echoed, buoyed up by Vicki’s pep talk.  

“Now,” Vicki said. “This guy...”

‘Jeff,’ Jared helpfully supplied.

“Jeff,” Vicki parroted, causing Jensen to squint at her suspiciously. She couldn’t see Jensen’s imaginary friends could she? Because that right there was some freaky shit. 

Vicki, oblivious to Jensen’s consternation, carried on. “Right now, he’s probably worried that you’re lying in a hospital bed somewhere.”

“I doubt that very much,” Jensen said, trying not to picture Jeff leaning on his counter, warm eyes full of worry.

“And,” Vicki scowled at his pessimism. “He may well have found your phone and be desperate to return it to you.”

“Or more likely some thieving little asswipe has pocketed it and sold it on eBay.”

Jared tugged viciously on Jensen’s earlobe. ‘Shut up and listen to the woman.’

“So you should call your cell and see if he answers,” Misha jumped in. 

“No,” Vicki shut him down, not appreciating his input. “You need to go see him.”

Jensen sighed. He knew he was going to have to face Jeff again sooner or later, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. There were only so many times you could humiliate yourself in front of the man of your dreams and bounce back. He figured he’d bite the bullet and go to the coffee shop before he went to work, and probably got fired. Yeah tomorrow promised to be another stellar day. 

Vicki wasn’t on board with his plan. “You need to go see him now.”

“Now?” Jensen asked her incredulously.

“Yes, now, Jensen. Why not?”

“Because it’s too late. Because I smell like sweat, and hospitals, and I look like I went three rounds with Muhammad Ali.”

“You look fine,” Vicki dismissed with a flick of her hand. “Just a tiny bit puffy, it’s cute. Makes me want to pinch your chubby little cheeks. And it’s barely six pm and okay, you do smell rank but we have this marvelous invention called a shower.”

‘Dude,” Jared bounced up and down on his shoulder. ‘This woman is fierce. And all kinds of hot. You’re aren’t gonna win.’

“I’m not gonna win, am I?” Jensen looked to Misha for support.

Misha grinned back at him with a shake of his head, and Jensen knew he was doomed. 

 

 

Jensen wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed to find Jeff’s coffee shop still open. He’d almost walked away when he spotted the small wooden sign on the door advertising that they closed at 7pm Monday to Saturday, but mini Jared and Chris wouldn’t shut up until he at least tried the door handle. The two idiots were fast becoming a pain in Jensen’s ass. At least he’d left the other nagging couple at home. Misha and Vicki were just as annoying as his best friends and rather harder to ignore. Being real and all.

When he stuck his head in the door, the bell tinging its usual welcome above his head, he found the shop empty, almost. Jeff stood behind the counter, his back turned. He didn’t turn around at the sound of the bell, didn’t stop what he was doing, which seemed to be wiping down one of the machines. “Sorry buddy, we’re just closing up,” he yelled, head almost immersed in whatever he was cleaning. 

“Sorry,” Jensen automatically replied, already backing out of the door. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” 

“Jensen? Oof...fuck!” Jensen cringed when Jeff cracked the back of his head as he jerked around. “Hey, no, don’t go, sorry, come on in.”

Jensen bounced on the balls of his feet beside the door, not sure if he should go or not. He didn’t want to get in Jeff’s way; the guy was obviously trying to close up and go home.

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Jared hissed. ‘He wants you to stay, get your ass inside.’

Jensen still hesitated. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jeff wiped his hands on a towel before stepping around the counter. “It’s good to see you, kid. I mean, it’s good to see that you’re okay. You are okay, right?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Jensen patted at his cheeks. After a cool shower, his face had lost the last signs of puffiness, but Jensen was still a little self-conscious. “Sorry for all the drama today. I guess not carrying my epiPen wasn’t a bright move.”

“Well, no,” Jeff agreed, throwing the towel down on a table and walking towards him. “You almost gave me a coronary. Are you sure you’re okay? Shouldn’t you be in hospital?”

Jensen gulped at the sight of Jeff advancing on him. Even at the end of a long day, shirt wrinkled and hair disheveled, the guy looked hot enough to send Jensen’s blood pressure rocketing. “I...uh...no, no, I’m fine. It wasn’t that serious. Really. A little oxygen, a shot of epinephrine, some antihistamines, and albuterol and I was good to go.” 

Jeff’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That sounds serious to me. Are you sure you shouldn’t be tucked up in bed right now?”

Jensen whimpered. A man with a voice like liquid sex should not be allowed to say the word bed. Not unless he was manhandling Jensen into his. “I...uh...I...” Heat crept up Jensen’s neck. Flustered, he stuttered. “I wanted to uh...apologize . For today. And thank you. For what you did.”

“N’aw, I didn’t do anything, sweetheart.” Jeff was right in front of him now. “I’m just glad you’re okay. You gave me, us, a real shock.”

Just for a second Jensen thought Jeff was going to reach out and touch him. Press his hand to the side of Jensen’s face; maybe dip his head down and—

And then he slipped past Jensen and headed towards the door. Jensen’s inhaled breath left him in a dismayed rush.

“You don’t mind if I slip the latch on the door do you?” Jeff glanced back at Jensen over his shoulder. 

‘Dude,’ Chris growled in Jensen’s ear. ‘Watch out. He could be up to some funny business.’

‘Dude,’ Jared drawled back. ‘We want him to get up to funny business.’

“No funny business, I promise,” Jeff said, holding his hands up when Jensen didn’t reply straight away. “It’s just a bit late for customers.”

‘Aw, damn,’ Jared huffed. 

“Of course,” Jensen blurted out. “Sorry. I’m holding you up, I’ll get out of your hair.”

‘Pussy.’ Chris shook his head.

Jeff slid the lock across the door. “Hey, no, don’t run off. I mean, you can go if you want obviously, but how about a coffee? I’ve cleaned all the machines for the night, but I’ve got a pot on through the back, and... _fuck_...your cellphone! I found your cellphone.”

“Oh, thank god.” That was at least one disaster averted. “I hoped I’d dropped it here, but jeez, that’s a relief.”

“You..uh...you had a few messages and...uh...calls.” Suddenly Jeff looked adorably awkward, shuffling his feet, and not quite meeting Jensen’s eye. “And obviously I didn’t...I mean, I’d never pry.”

Jensen nodded along.

“Except, well it rang not stop for like an hour. Three numbers. They seemed pretty desperate to get hold of you.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. Honestly, one afternoon without his cell and everyone went batshit. 

“So I gave in about twenty minutes ago and answered it.” 

Jensen’s nose wrinkled in surprise at that. He’d have thought Jeff would have shoved his cell in a drawer or something, not stared at it buzzing for an hour. “Your friend, Chris, he’s...” Jeff chewed on his lip thoughtfully for a second. “He’s a little on the protective side?”

“Oh my god,” Jensen laughed nervously. “What did he say?”

“He wanted to know where the hell you were? And who the hell I was. And why the hell I had your cell. And he may have threatened to cut off my fucking dick and ram it down my motherfucking throat if I’d laid a fucking finger on you. I’m quoting here by the way.”

Slapping his palm across his eyes, Jensen groaned. “I’m sorry. He’s a dick.”

‘Hey,’ Imaginary Chris complained. ‘I was looking out for you.’

‘Yeah,’ Imaginary Jared chipped in. ‘That’s restrained for Chris.’

“Nah,” Jeff chuckled, scratching his fingers through his scruff. “He was worried, I get it. But I thought I should explain to him what happened this afternoon.”

“Shit,” Jensen sighed, kneading at his temple. 

“Apparently,“ Jeff continued, “your boss was trying to find you? When you didn’t turn up in the afternoon? He called your brother, who I guess called you and then your friends. They were getting pretty frantic.”

“Shit,” Jensen repeated with feeling. He hadn’t given much thought to letting anyone know what was going on. At one point a nurse had asked him if she could contact anyone for him, but all Jensen could think about was having to admit to his big brother that he ate a fucking pesto sandwich _and_  that he wasn’t carrying his epiPen. Anyway, Josh was miles away, hours on a plane, there was no point in worrying him. That was how Jensen rationalized waving off the nurse. Not that Jensen had been thinking particularly rationally at the time. If he was he would have asked them to contact his goddamn motherfucking boss.

“Let me grab your cell,” Jeff said. “You should probably call them back.”

“I guess,” Jensen mumbled, not a lick of enthusiasm in his tone. 

Striding across the store, Jeff grabbed Jensen’s cell from underneath the counter. A surprising blush lighting up his cheeks when he came back and handed it to Jensen, one that Jensen very much wanted to kiss away. “For what it’s worth kid, I’m sorry for sticking my big nose in.”

Bold for once, in the face of Jeff’s uncertainty, Jensen brushed his fingers across Jeff’s knuckles when he released the celllphone. “Nah, it’s fine, honest. I’m sorry you had to deal with Chris’s...” Jensen paused, not sure if assholery was actually a word.

“Concern?” Jeff supplied. 

“Sure,” Jensen snorted. “Let’s go with that that.”

“It was no problem, kid,” Jeff said, his voice, so close, sending a ripple right down Jensen’s spine. And then there was a moment, Jensen and Jeff standing face to face, hands almost touching, breaths warm on each other’s faces. A moment when Jensen could see sparks of gold in Jeff’s eyes, light sparking against the few silver strands threaded through his hair, could almost taste the hint of coffee clinging to his lips. A moment when the world seemed to revolve just around Jensen and Jeff, and Jensen was sure, so sure, that Jeff was finally going to lean down and press his lips against Jensen’s.

One heartbeat later, Jeff blinked, and stepped back, and the moment slipped away.

“I’ll fetch us some coffee while you call your friends,” Jeff said, his voice dipping to a whole new level. He took another step back and ran his fingers through his hair before turning round and escaping to the back of the shop. 

‘Fuck, I thought he was gonna kiss you there.’ Jared exclaimed, his wings whipping up an excited storm against Jensen’s neck.

‘Seemed like a bit of a moment to me.’ Chris agreed. 

Suddenly sweating, Jensen shrugged off his jacket and threw it over a stool. He exhaled shakily, and forced himself to take a few steadying breaths before looking at his cellphone. Holy shit, there were so many message notifications that Jensen was surprised his phone hadn’t exploded. And boy, was his brother pissed. 

Like the coward he’d fully admit to being, rather than returning calls, Jensen fired off quick groveling apologies to Josh, Jared, and Chris. He shouldn’t have been surprised when his cellphone lit up twenty seconds later. Josh got in first. 

And who knew his brother had taken lessons on the art of the guilt-trip lecture from their mother. Jensen’s ear was throbbing after two minutes. Josh apparently wasn’t much mollified by the fact that Jensen hadn’t died. By the end of the call, he’d extracted both Vicki and Misha’s cellphone numbers from Jensen, and stern promises about carrying his epiPen at all times, as well as a promise to call immediately in future if Jensen did anything stupid enough to require a hospital trip.  

Jensen switched off his cellphone as soon as he got Josh off the line. Jared and Chris’s lectures would have to wait. 

‘Chicken shit,’ imaginary Chris scoffed, jabbing at Jensen with his tiny arrow.

Jensen steadfastly ignored him, and walked towards the counter. 

The coffee shop’s atmosphere seemed different now, with no one around. The lights were dimmed a little, or maybe it was just that darkness had settled over the city already, but the whole shop seemed smaller, cozier. The main difference though was the lack of noise, the absence of chatter and laughter and the hiss and steam of the coffee machines. It was different but not unpleasant. A calmness settled into Jensen’s skin, unknotting some of the tension twisted in his shoulders. 

He didn’t want to fuck this up. Whatever this was. If it was Jeff’s guilty conscience at play, if he was just being friendly to the accident prone weird kid, or whether he was, possibly, kind of interested in Jensen too. 

‘Of course he is.’ Jared was in full cheerleader mode. ‘He wouldn’t have asked you to stay otherwise.’

‘Unless he’s a psycho serial killer,’ Chris’s added, less enthusiastically.

“Guys you need to shut up,” Jensen said, louder than he should have considering Jeff wasn’t far away. 

‘Yeah Chris, shut up,’ Jared hissed. 

“Both of you shut up,” Jensen sighed.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” A clatter, another curse, a bang, and Jeff appeared in the door leading to the back of the shop, cheeks flushed.

Jensen stared open-mouthed; flustered Jeff was still seriously fucking hot. “Are you okay?” Jensen couldn’t believe he was the one asking for once. The world seemed to have tilted. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Sure,” Jeff said, glancing back over his shoulder.

Jensen didn't know quite what to say next. 

Jeff fidgeted awkwardly. 

Jensen wasn’t sure what to make of Jeff’s behavior, but every one of his self-doubts suddenly flooded back full force. He jerked his head towards the door. “Maybe I should just go?”

“No!” Jeff bit back straight away, his eyes widening, and hand snapping out towards Jensen. “No, shit. That’s not...Jesus, I’m fucking this up.” 

‘Jay, you think he’s cracked?’ Chris asked nervously from Jensen’s shoulder.

‘Who cares,’ Jared replied. ‘I’d still do him.’

Jensen scratched surreptitiously at his neck, _accidentally_ flicking Jared in the balls as he did it.

Shit, this is embarrassing,” Jeff admitted, rubbing his beard fretfully.

Jensen snorted a rueful laugh. “Dude, in the past few weeks, I’ve fallen on my ass, soaked myself in coffee and milk, taught a toddler to curse, and talked to you whilst covered in toothpaste and suffering from a truly horrifying case of bedhead. Oh, and I almost killed myself eating a salami sub. Don’t talk to me about embarrassing.”

Jeff chuckled, his dimples making a welcome reappearance. “If it makes you feel any better, I was too busy trying not to make an ass of myself in front of you to notice.”

Jensen smiled shyly in response to that, a blush breaking out across his cheeks. He didn’t believe Jeff for a minute but it was nice to hear. 

“Plus you’re adorable when you blush.” Jeff added with a wink, which just made Jensen blush all the harder. 

“So,” Jensen, coughed, feeling the tips of his ears burn under Jeff’s attention. “What’s so embarrassing?”

“God,” Jeff laughed, looking up towards the ceiling. “Don’t laugh.”

Flummoxed and undeniably curious, Jensen waited.

“There’s a spider. A big one.”

Whatever Jensen had expected it wasn’t that. 

“I don’t do crawly shit.”

Jensen tried to hide his smile. 

“ _Really_ don’t do them,” Jeff stressed as though Jensen didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. 

Jensen giggled, just a little, smacking his hand across his mouth to stifle the noise. Either side of him Jared and Chris were laughing their tiny asses off. Truth be told Jensen wasn’t that fond of spiders either, but no way was he admitting that to Jeff. Not yet anyway. 

“No laughing, I said,” Jeff growled mock sternly. 

“Sorry,” Jensen said, muffled behind his fingers. “It’s not funny.”

“Hmm,” Jeff suddenly smirked, his eyes twinkling. “Well, at least I’ve got you here to save me.”

“What?” Jensen squeaked.

Jeff grinned. “From the spider. You obviously don’t mind, right?”

Jensen’s laughter turned into a nervous hiccough. “Ah, well, that’s not exactly—"

Jeff brushed off his, admittedly, weak protests. “Come on,” he wrapped his fingers around Jensen’s bicep, tugging him towards the back of the shop. Excitement at feeling Jeff’s warm fingers wrapped around his arm was only dampened by the thought of having to face down a spider. If it was bigger than a fifty cent piece Jensen might be screwed. 

It was bigger than a fifty cent piece. The thing was huge. And ugly. And staring up at Jensen from the floor like it was ready for a fight.

Jensen and Jeff stood united side by side, matching grimaces on their faces. The spider didn’t flinch.

“Um...” Jensen hedged. “You got any bug spray?” 

The spider laughed in the face of the bug spray. The whole can. And the actual can that Jensen tossed at it. Next, with creepy nonchalance, it shook off the salt that Jensen threw over it. It then slid out of the dish soap Jeff squirted in its vicinity, without batting a single one of its eyes. It’s only reaction was to crawl menacingly towards them in retaliation. Jensen would have been embarrassed by the shriek that escaped him, but Jeff’s scream pretty much drowned it out. The eight legged fucker was like a freaky arachnid terminator. 

Chris and Jared had stopped giggling like a pair of school kids and grown strangely quiet. 

“What now?” Jensen asked, taking another step backwards. “Blow torch?”

“Christ, no.” Jeff said from his position just behind Jensen. “The asshole would probably set my shop on fire.” 

Jensen had visions of a flaming spider strolling casually through Jeff’s coffee shop leaving a blaze in its path. It would have been funny, but the thing was apparently impervious to bug spray, salt and dish soap; fire-retardant didn’t seem that much of a stretch. “So, what now?”

“Retreat?” Jeff suggested. “Live to fight another day?”

It was tempting. But, Jensen didn’t like giving up. They were men goddamnit. They couldn’t let a crawly motherfucker beat them. “We can’t let him win, man. Look at him he’s plotting our grisly deaths, it’s either him or us.”

The spider lifted its front leg and shook it in their direction. Jensen stumbled back against Jeff, his back colliding with Jeff’s chest. Jeff’s hand clasped his waist steadying them both and for a second Jensen almost forgot about the spider waving at them. Especially when Jeff didn’t let go. “Well, kid, you got any ideas?” 

Jensen licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry at the tickle of Jeff’s breath against the back of his neck. Only the spider raising another leg in his direction reminded him of the problem. 

“I think he’s flipping us off,” Jeff observed.

Jensen looked around for something to utilize in battle. The kitchen at the back of the shop wasn’t huge but it had all the basics including huge storage containers, and also knives. Big ones. Jensen glared at the spider. The spider glared back, just daring him to try something. 

“Okay,” Jensen said, fresh determination in his voice. “First, we’ll trap it under one of those Tupperware things and then—"

The spider didn’t like the plan. This time it didn’t walk towards them, it jumped, all eight hairy legs in the air and murder in its eyes.

With matching shrieks, Jensen and Jeff tumbled over each other in their rush to escape; Jeff finally grabbing Jensen’s hand and yanking him out of the door, kicking it shut behind them. They leaned back against the door panting, like they’d just outrun a serial killer. Jensen wasn’t altogether sure they hadn’t. That thing had probably crawled all the way up from the bowels of hell just to fuck with them. Or something. 

“Jesus Christ,” Jeff gasped.

Jensen giggled. A little hysterically. Thankfully Jeff joined in. The absurdity of the situation hitting them both as they doubled up with laughter. “We’re pathetic,” Jensen eventually wheezed. “Scared of a little spider!”

“That fucker isn’t little,” Jeff pointed out. 

“Jesus,” Jensen huffed. “What are we gonna do now?”

“Nothing,” Jeff said. “Danneel can deal with the hairy bastard in the morning.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow at Jeff’s ungentlemanly behavior. 

“Trust me,” Jeff said, matching Jensen’s eyebrow quirk with one of his own which was definitely cheating because Jeff’s eyebrows were unfairly sexy. “Danni’s dealt with bigger insects.”

Jensen was going to point out that a spider wasn’t an insect but figured Jeff maybe wasn’t talking literally. And also, he’d just realized they were still holding hands, fingers entwined like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Noticing Jensen staring at their joined hands, Jeff gave his fingers an ever so gentle, ever so careful, squeeze. “I’m sorry about the coffee though. If you like, we can go upstairs and I’ll make some.”

“Upstairs?” Jensen asked, not able to take his eyes away from the sight of his hand wrapped in Jeff’s. 

“It’s where I live. It’s nothing fancy but it’s close. Just coffee, I promise. No pressure.”

Just coffee. Jensen’s heart still fluttered in excitement. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

He grabbed his jacket and waited as Jeff locked up for the night, then followed him through another door and up a flight of narrow stairs to his apartment. Both of them exchanging shy smiles and nervous glances. 

Jeff’s apartment wasn’t a palace, but it was warm and welcoming. Open plan and cherry floors and picture covered pale walls. A burnt orange sofa big enough to hold a football team sat in the middle of the room facing a big-ass television on the wall. Against the other walls were bookcases stuffed full, and in the kitchen was a sink piled high with dirty dishes that Jeff stealthily tried to hide behind him as Jensen looked around. 

He might have been embarrassed, but between the spider and the dirty dishes it was nice to know that Jeff was actually human. Not the infallible sex god that Jensen had built him up to be in his head. If anything it made Jensen fall that little bit harder for him because if in control growly Jeff was sexy, bashful laughing Jeff was irresistible.

“This is really nice,” Jensen said looking at the pictures on the wall as Jeff put on a pot of coffee. Jensen felt a little bad that Jeff had to make yet more coffee for him. 

“It’s home,” Jeff smiled. “And it sure is for handy for work. You live far from here?”

And just as easy as that they fell into conversation. Once his nerves had been chased away—thank you spidernator—Jensen found Jeff as easy to talk to as his best friends. The move to the couch happened without either of them noticing, and somehow despite they size of it, they both ended up sitting on the middle cushion.

“There’s an old game on,” Jeff said, at one point. “If you want to watch. We could order a pizza?”

“No pesto?”

Jeff shook his head, his eyes dark and serious. “Definitely no pesto.”

The pizza arrived before the end of the first innings, by the end of the third all that was left was one cold lonely slice that they were both too polite to take and two empty beer bottles. By the end of the fourth, Jensen was pressed up against Jeff’s side telling him all about his college dramas and his parents. Half way through the fifth and Jensen knew all about Jeff’s wonderful mama and his asshole ex. He also knew that despite his slow southern drawl Jeff had been born and raised on the West Coast; it didn’t lessen the effect those deep lilting tones had on Jensen. 

By the start of the sixth innings Jensen wanted to kiss Jeff so badly he couldn’t take his eyes away from his mouth.

By the end of the sixth innings Jensen’s head was in Jeff’s lap. Unfortunately, he was sound asleep. 

He awoke with a crick in his neck, a warm patchwork quilt tucked around him and the smell of freshly ground coffee tickling his nose. 

“Hey.” Jensen blinked the sleep from his eyes and automatically reached out for the coffee mug Jeff was offering him. Jeff who was dressed in soft plaid sleep pants and nothing else. At the sight of Jeff's firm chest, his dark hair, tanned skin, and sharp hip bones, and oh my...even a teasing happy trail, Jensen thought he might still be dreaming. It was really too much for his poor dick to deal with first thing in the morning. 

Jeff held the cup just out of reach until Jensen shuffled more or less upright, trying to keep his morning wood hidden by the quilt. Once Jeff finally handed over the hostage coffee, he sat next to Jensen on the couch, drinking from his own over-sized mug. Jensen closed his eyes and hummed around his first sip of coffee, savoring whatever magic beans Jeff used. Even the need to pee and clean his teeth didn’t spoil the perfect quiet of the moment. It took a few minutes for Jensen to pull his wits together enough to talk. And apologize. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, embarrassment his default setting around Jeff. “For falling asleep on you. Not what I meant to do.”

Jeff shrugged, and with his mug free hand picked a stray piece of fluff from Jensen’s sleep mussed hair. “Would it be creepy if I said I kind of liked it? You looked seven kinds of adorable lying on my couch. I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

Jensen took another sip of coffee to hide his blush. “Still, it’s not why you asked me up here.”

“No,” Jeff agreed. “I asked you up here because I’ve had a goddamn schoolgirl crush on you ever since you stumbled into my coffee shop.”

Jensen did well not to choke on his mouthful of coffee. “You have?”

Jeff nodded. “Mhm. I’ve been truly pathetic. And then I almost killed you yesterday and I thought for sure I’d never see your pretty green eyes or those stupidly sexy freckles ever again.”

Jensen squeaked into his mug, his stomach somersaulting. He let another mouthful of coffee cover his nerves before he thought to assure Jeff. “It wasn’t your fault though. The pesto. That was all on me.”

“Right,” Jeff sighed grimly, setting down his coffee, and pushing himself up from the couch. His sagging shoulders broadcasting disappointment. “Sure. Well, that’s good to hear.”

Jensen had fucked up. Again. Useless dipshit. He could never say the right thing. Especially when he hadn’t drunk enough coffee to kickstart his brain. This was the best chance, and possibly the only chance, he’d have with Jeff and it was slipping through his fingers. He didn’t know how to save it. And then suddenly Jared and Chris were right there, jumping up and down on his shoulders like the ugliest cheerleaders in the world shouting, “Kiss him you moron, kiss him!”

So Jensen did, coffee still gripped in one hand, sleep sticking in his eyes and his mouth morning sour. He grabbed Jeff’s arm. “Jeff wait, me too. The crush. On you. Me too.”

The panicked words made little sense but they stopped Jeff from walking away which was all Jensen needed. He didn’t pause long enough to doubt himself, just pounced as soon as Jeff turned his head in Jensen’s direction. And god the kiss was awful. Their noses bumped, eyes crossed and Jensen somehow caught his front tooth against Jeff’s bottom lip. Jeff stood stiff throughout, wincing when Jensen almost took a chunk out of his lip.

Thoroughly discouraged and intensely embarrassed, Jensen quickly gave up the whole thing as a disaster and backed away from a shell shocked Jeff. He just had time for crushing disappointment to envelop him and decide to flee the building when Jeff made his move. His hand coming up to cradle Jensen’s cheek, his lips pressing firmly against Jensen’s. And instantly this kiss was a thousand times better than Jensen’s clumsy efforts.

Jeff’s kisses were like his coffee; intense, delicious and hot. And Jensen wanted to drown in them. His breath probably still tasted like ass, but after a few seconds Jensen forgot to care. He didn’t even put up too much of a fight when Jeff’s tongue coaxed its way into Jensen’s mouth. Just sighed and melted even more into his touch. And when, seconds, minutes, possibly even days, later, Jeff tried to break away, Jensen shamelessly chased after him, whining in dismay. Jeff certainly didn’t complain, his mouth dropping back down like it belonged on Jensen’s. 

Unwilling to let Jeff go ever again, or at least in the near future, Jensen closed what little space there was between them, one hand curling around Jeff’s neck, the other grasping at the waist of his sleep pants...which turned out to be Jensen’s big mistake. Because the coffee mug was still in his hand.

Both men lurched backwards when the mug slipped from Jensen’s hand tumbling to the floor, the remains of his coffee splashing spectacularly across Jeff’s crotch and down his legs. 

Jeff yelped, shaking droplets of hot coffee from his pajama pants. “Shit! Fuck!”

“Take them off,” Jensen yelped, frantic, his heart thundering so hard in his ears it sounded like someone was trying to batter down the door. 

“What? No!” Jeff, red faced, tried to slap a panicked Jensen’s hands away but Jensen was insistent. He didn’t want to be responsible for Jeff’s dick suffering third degree burns. He suspected it was a dick he wanted to have a very close relationship with. With one forceful yank he dragged down Jeff’s sleep pants revealing the fact that Jeff was utterly naked underneath. Then, in a moment he would later reflect back on and wonder at, he decided to drop to his knees and pick up the toppled mug lying broken at Jeff’s feet.

At this point, three things happened; Jensen realized the hammering of his heart was actually Danneel hammering at Jeff’s apartment door. Danneel, having come to investigate why Jeff was late for work and inquire as to whether it had anything to do with the enormous spider she’d just befriended in the kitchen, heard his pained squeals, took them as a sign he was being murdered and decided to use her spare key to save his poor pathetic ass. And Jeff, trying to shake a drop of coffee from his dick, tripped over the waistband of his floored pants and slapped his hand on top of Jensen’s head to regain his balance. 

The tableau Danneel found as she burst through the door was not one she expected to encounter. And not one she would ever forget. Or frankly want to.

It was around this time that Jensen was simultaneously falling in love with Jeff’s dick and looking for a deep hole to crawl into and die. 

And if asked later, Jeff would admit that it was also the moment he knew he was going to marry Jensen Ackles. There was no way he could let a first kiss story that hilarious not be just the start of a very clumsy romance. 

 

 

 

**Epilogue**

 

“What the hell? I have purple wings! Why do I even have fucking wings?”

“Dude at least your wings are cool. Look at my bow and arrow! I mean look at it. I’m like a tiny grumpy Cupid.”

“You are tiny _and_ grumpy.”

“They still at it?” Jeff asked, bending down to press a kiss against the side of Jensen's neck, right on a particularly pretty freckle.

“Is that Jeff?” Jared asked, centering the cellphone on himself so Chris was reduced to a squawking blur behind him. “Why doesn’t he have wings?”

“Because,” Jeff pointed out, sliding off his boxers—hopefully out of sight of Jared and Chris—and climbing back into bed behind Jensen, his hand finding its way naturally around that narrow waist. “I’m sleeping with the artist.” And if there was more than a hint of pride in his voice he didn’t think he could be blamed. From working in the mail room to having his work published was a gigantic leap in less than a year. Jeff’s boyfriend was amazing. 

“It’s not like anyone is going to know it’s you.” Jensen pointed out. “I mean no one is probably going to even notice it. It’s a tiny comic strip in newspaper. It’s not a graphic novel or anything.”

“Hey,” Jeff poked his fingers in Jensen’s ribs. “It’s awesome is what it is. Don’t put yourself down.”

Sure, it wasn’t a graphic novel, but hell, Jensen wasn’t even twenty-one yet and his work was getting published. That was damn impressive. And so what if he had a little help from some of the people he worked with, that’s what friends were for. Felicia, Jensen’s self-proclaimed work BFF, had pushed him in the right direction, helping him post his work online in the first place and then making sure he didn’t get taken advantage of when it caught the attention of a newspaper publisher. 

And his cartoons were honestly hilarious. And cute as hell. And no one had to know that the hero’s hapless adventures were based on Jensen’s real klutzy life or his insane best friends. Although that added to the charm for Jeff. 

“Anyway,” Chris said elbowing Jared in the belly in an attempt to gain control of the cell. “Thanks for the framed first print. I’m sure when you’re rich and famous we’ll be able to sell it for a tidy profit.”

“Yeah,” Jared said, grabbing his cellphone back without much problem thanks to his oversized wingspan. “Thanks for the gift. You got yours right?”

Jeff faded out from the conversation for a while, far too intent on sneakily removing Jensen’s stupid candy cane print sleep pants and peppering his perfectly pale shoulders with kisses. 

Eventually Chris’s angry growl and Jensen’s giggles dragged his attention back to the conversation. “Jesus Christ, he does know that we can see you right? I mean I know he’s old but he’s heard of FaceTime right?”

“Oh shut it, Cupid,” Jared teased. “I for one am quite happy to start the day with a live sex show.”

“Well, you’re out of luck.” Jensen laughed, adding in Jeff’s defense, “And you know he’s only twelve years older than me. Anyway, shouldn’t you two be heading down for breakfast instead of hiding in Jared’s bedroom like a pair of naughty kids?”

With Chris’s parents Christmassing in Florida with his sister this year, both Jensen’s friends were spending the holidays with Jared’s family. And had apparently spent most of their time either partying, or hiding in Jared’s room trying to avoid both the chores and Jared’s sister’s friends.

The Padaleckis had also extended an invitation to Jensen, but much to Jeff’s relief he’d declined. He’d also declined an invitation from his own parents, although he had gone home briefly for Thanksgiving. It had been, according to Jensen, awkward. Mainly for his father who was apparently the only member of the Ackles family still struggling with the fact Jensen was gay. 

Jeff had laughed at the story of Jensen’s eighty year old grandmother giving Alan Ackles a piece of her mind. If Jeff had been there himself he’d have given him a lot worse. And although he was glad that Jensen’s family were trying to build bridges, he’d been relieved to have Jensen back home again. 

“I guess,” Jared said in answer to Jensen’s question. “What about you two? You planning on making it out of bed at any point today?”

“No,” Jeff growled, against the curve of Jensen’s collar bone, at the same time Jensen said, “Yep, we’re going to Jeff’s mom’s later.”

Jeff huffed and Jensen patted his head affectionately. Or maybe it was condescendingly. 

“Well, enjoy, and don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.” Jared said. “That doesn’t rule out much,” Chris added. 

“I don’t know,” Jeff drawled, nibbling at the shell of Jensen’s ear. There was a freckle there the shape of a love heart. A squished, out-of-shape, love heart, but still. “Did you tell them about the night we—”

Jensen had to know that Jeff wouldn’t risk embarrassing him by divulging any of their secrets but he shut the call off with a harried “Merry Christmas” anyway. 

"I wouldn’t have told them anything,” Jeff said, laying a path of kisses down Jensen’s neck.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Jensen said primly, finally kicking off his ugly ass sleep pants. 

Jeff grinned, predatory, and rolled on top of Jensen, keeping most of his weight on his elbows while covering Jensen’s body with his own. “No? So they know that you like—“

“Jeff,” Jensen cut him off, his cheeks flushing. He was adorably easy to scandalize. And Jeff loved the way he blushed so much that he found it hard not to take advantage of that. That wasn’t to say Jensen was particularly bashful in bed. Far from it. Once Jeff smashed through his self-conscious shell he’d found a hedonistic treasure. One he planned on keeping all to himself for as long as possible. 

“You know,” Jeff said, scraping his scruff across Jensen’s nipple just to hear the breathy moan he knew it would provoke. “We don’t have to go to my mom’s. We could just stay here. In bed. All day.”

Jeff soothed the burn across Jensen’s peaked nipple with his tongue, smirking when Jensen’s back arched up off the bed at the sensation. 

“No,” Jensen gasped, and Jeff stopped abruptly from where he was about to pull Jensen’s other nipple into his mouth. “We can’t skip your mom’s,” Jensen clarified quickly. 

Jeff was disappointed but not surprised and definitely not as devastated as he would have been had Jensen’s no referred to sex. 

“She won’t mind,” Jeff shrugged, wondering briefly why he was discussing his mother right at that particular moment.

“She will,” Jensen huffed. “And so will I. All we have to eat here are chocolates, and left over sandwiches. I want your mom’s ham and—“

Jeff tweaked Jensen’s nipple rather harder than he normally would. “Are you seriously thinking about food right now?”

Jensen pouted. “She’s making pie, Jeff. And then we’re going to watch Miracle on 34th Street and if I can find it, the Christmas episode of Doctor Who.”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “I never should have introduced the pair of you.” He was joking...mostly. He loved that his mother had welcomed Jensen with open arms. And he felt blessed that Jensen thought she was awesome. But between their shared love of cheesy Christmas movies, sci-fi, and their joint nagging about him driving his motorcycle on rain-slick roads, he did feel rather outnumbered. And he’d begun to think his mother might love Jensen a little bit more than she loved Jeff. 

Looking down into green eyes, he couldn’t honestly say he blamed her. 

“Fine,” Jeff said, with a put upon sigh and a sparkle in his eyes. “But only if I get you all to myself this morning. No Jared’s or Chris’s, real or imaginary, and definitely no mothers.”

“Well, okay then.” Jensen agreed, grinning. “But only if I get orgasms. And preferably your dick in my mouth at some point soon.” 

“Mmm,” Jeff kissed the filthy smirk from Jensen’s lips. “I think that could be arranged. How many orgasms exactly would you like?” One thing about dating a twenty year old...his enviable recovery time. Jeff had stamina though. And patience. He could tease Jensen for hours if the mood took. And it frequently did.

Jensen wasn’t always willing to let Jeff have his own way however. And apparently for Christmas all he wanted was Jeff’s dick. Jeff certainly wasn’t going to deny him. He wasn’t a grinch. Not when it came to blowjobs. Which is why he didn’t complain when he found himself on his back, with Jensen between his legs, mouthing over his balls. Although he did complain five minutes later when Jensen’s pretty lips were still there. And jeff's dick was slapping against his belly, purple headed and angry at being ignored.

“Jensen,” he growled. “Fuck, could you please...just...fuck!” It was hard to speak, or even think when Jensen seemed determined to lick every inch of his balls until they were dripping with spit. 

Jensen sucked one of Jeff’s nuts into his mouth, his tongue doing wicked things that made Jeff’s eyes roll back in his head, before he pulled off with an obscene pop. “Could I please what?” His eyes were bright with mischief, his lips swollen red and slick. 

“Suck my dick, you teasing little shit.” Jeff was not whining. 

“Now,” Jensen said, licking a hot stripe up Jeff’s thigh, his fingers tugging gently at Jeff’s balls, but still not touching his dick. “That’s not very polite, Jeff.”

“Sweetheart, if you don’t suck my dick right the fuck now, I’m gonna tie you up and edge you until you forget your own damn name.”

Jensen laughed, and Jeff’s dick twitched violently but still didn’t get any nearer to Jensen’s mouth. “Is that supposed to be a threat? Sounds like a normal Sunday to me.”

Jeff growled, his muscles tensing ready to flip Jensen over and....his heart almost stopped when Jensen’s mouth sunk down over his dick, taking him all the way to the root in one well practiced move. 

“Fuck!” Jeff threw his head back, almost knocking himself out on the headboard but it was worth it. Jensen’s throat bobbed, working around Jeff’s dick, his fingers never stopping, caressing Jeff’s balls, roaming across his thighs, his quivering stomach. Jeff couldn’t do much more than lie there and let Jensen take control, surrendering to the wet tight heat of his mouth, the wicked tricks of his tongue. There was no question of how much Jensen loved this. The boy had an oral fixation a mile wide. Could spend hours in-between Jeff’s thighs. And Jeff would happily let him. Although there were plenty of other things he enjoyed too.

In the end, it took almost superhuman willpower for Jeff to move. He had to wait until Jensen’s lips momentarily retreated from his cock to gather enough brain cells together to seize back some semblance of control. 

Jensen huffed in complaint when Jeff flipped them around, leaning over him and kissing the taste of himself from ruined lips. “That mouth of yours is going to kill me one day.”

“But what a way to go,” Jensen winked, and Jeff needed immediately to wipe the smug grin off that pretty boy face. It wasn’t difficult to do. He knew all Jensen’s weak spots. Knew how sensitive his nipples were, how much he loved when Jeff played with them until they were almost raw. Knew exactly what spots to hit, which freckles to lick, to make Jensen squirm. If they had all day, if they really didn’t have to go to his mother’s, Jeff could have teased his boy for hours. Made him whimper and beg. But they’d have time for that another day, tomorrow perhaps. Jeff would tie Jensen’s hands over his head with Christmas ribbon and dish out some well-deserved payback.

Now though, he manhandled Jensen over on to his belly, grabbed the lube from under his pillow and wasted no time in opening him up. One finger, two. A hand mark slapped across Jensen’s butt cheek. Another on the other side to complete the matching set. Jensen wriggling against the bed, spine dipping low, ass pushing high. Not begging but close enough. More lube, Jensen shuddering as Jeff worked three thick fingers into his hole. Still not as thick as his dick though. Or as long. His dick shoving home still made Jensen’s breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense, Jeff’s name fall from his lips.

One careful thrust and Jensen’s muscles relaxed. Another and he pushed back. And then Jeff’s rhythm found pace. He fucked every gasp and whimper from his boy, fingers digging into his shoulder, his hips. When Jensen’s knees gave out, Jeff followed him down, covering his body completely, pressing him down into the mattress. Finding the angle that made Jensen cry out, fuck his own dick against the sheets. Jeff bit at the back of his neck, ground his hips until Jensen shook.

They came together. One setting the other off. Impossible to tell who tumbled over the edge first. Jeff slamming into Jensen or Jensen clenching around Jeff as their orgasms burst through them. Both sweat slick and breathless, and grinning. The bed was ruined. The sheets, much like Jensen and Jeff, sticky with come and lube and spit. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Jeff purred in Jensen’s ear.

“That better not have been my gift, cheapskate,” Jensen mumbled back, wriggling out from under Jeff, untangling their limbs just enough so he could snuggle against Jeff’s chest. His favorite place to be. Jeff’s too. 

“Sex isn’t a good enough gift?” Jeff teased, dragging his fingers down Jensen’s spine.

Jensen shivered and burrowed even closer into Jeff’s chest. “Hmm, point.” Jensen agreed. “Although more coffee would be good too.”

Tucked up under the warmth of the bed covers with Jensen, Jeff could feel his eyes closing. “Sure, babe,” he mumbled against the top of Jensen’s head. Just as soon as he had a quick nap Jeff would make all the coffee Jensen wanted. Maybe once he’d gotten dressed though. As much as he adored Jensen, he’d long since learned that Jensen, naked skin and hot beverages were not the best combination.

 

**Finis**

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